From childhood they had cultivated. Even though many were born into imperial lineages, their journeys had been filled with endless hardships.
Not to mention those rogue cultivators who had struggled step by step to reach this point.
Now, standing so close to Heaven's Will, just one final step away.
The seven-coloured Heaven's Will hung just above their heads.
Everything felt like a dream, only to die so miserably at this juncture.
It wasn’t that they couldn’t accept death, anyone daring to fight for Heaven's Will had already come with the resolve to either succeed or perish.
But to be slaughtered in such a humiliating manner, they could not accept it.
Everyone yearned for a death as weighty as Mount Tai, none wished for a death lighter than a feather.
“Fellow cultivators, I still have one final method,” a voice suddenly spoke.
Like an oasis in the desert, it gave everyone a glimpse of hope.
All turned to look. It was the Holy Son of the Invincible Domain, Changsun Wutian.
He wore golden robes, his long hair cascading behind him, hesitation in his eyes as he looked around.
“If you have something, speak! We don’t have time to waste,” someone urged.
“My sect’s ancestor, the Invincible Emperor, once left behind a technique known as the Primordial Strike,” Changsun Wutian said. “It allows everyone’s power to be condensed into a single blow.”
Everyone knew human strength was limited. With cultivation it grew, but no one could ever wield one hundred percent of their own power.
Like how a person may lift all manner of things yet cannot lift themselves.
“Primordial Strike? I’ve never heard of such a thing,” someone questioned.
“It’s normal you haven’t. This technique is forbidden,” Changsun Wutian explained.
“From the primordial ages it comes, eternal it shall vanish. Once used, it gathers every shred of your strength into one. But when its time ends, your body will be no different from a cripple. In but the flick of a finger, ages pass, that is its price.”
At his words, silence fell over the crowd.
No wonder he had kept it hidden.
Once used, they would become helpless, waiting to be slaughtered. But in this situation, was there any other choice?
The Hexa-Genesis Immortal Formation trapped them. They couldn’t defeat their enemy, nor could they flee.
“Do we even have another option?” someone asked quietly.
Everyone remained silent.
“Then let’s do it. Give everything we have. I refuse to believe there exists someone truly invincible in this world,” said Young Master Bai Dao.
They all turned to look at Xu Zimo.
He stood like a god-demon walking through the void, lightning swirling around him, everything before him falling into silence.
A single word from his lips was like thunder splitting the darkness.
He towered over all, a figure swallowing mountains and rivers, blade light and sword shadows, his unmatched aura filling the heavens.
“I will be the vessel,” Changsun Wutian said solemnly. “Release your true fate and spiritforce to me, offer no resistance. Otherwise, we will all suffer heavy backlash.”
“Alright,” they answered in unison.
…
Changsun Wutian closed his eyes briefly, inhaled deeply.
When he snapped them open, his aura had completely changed.
A vast, ancient pressure spread out, gray mist rising around him.
One by one, the others placed their hands on the shoulders of the one before them, forming a long chain.
“Yin and Yang, this is the Dao of Heaven and Earth, the law governing all things, the parents of transformation, the source of life and death, the dwelling of divinity…”
As he chanted, the gray mist surged, wrapping around everyone present.
Before him, a door of void appeared.
Within it, boundless power began to gather.
Everyone could clearly feel their strength draining away, spiritforce and true fate alike, pouring into Changsun Wutian.
The force within that void door grew ever stronger.
Xu Zimo watched with interest. “Oh? Now this is something…”
His gaze pierced through the void door, freezing the souls of all who stood there.
Through layer after layer of void, into the origins of the Primordial Era.
Something was awakening.
A ray of gray light seeped into the darkness.
“Kill!” Changsun Wutian roared, his face twisted, pouring his final strength into the word.
Behind him, everyone’s faces contorted as well, their thunderous shouts of Kill! shaking the heavens.
Murderous intent surged skyward, splitting the dome of heaven, condensing into a tangible sword.
The gray mist from the void door burst forth.
It shot out at the speed of light, so fast even Xu Zimo’s eyes could barely follow.
The void along its path shattered, all things reduced to dust, leaving only a gray beam tearing through everything in its way.
When the strike erupted, everyone collapsed to the ground, their spirit energy utterly drained.
Xu Zimo raised his head. The gray beam struck him in the abdomen, piercing straight through.
“It worked!” Changsun Wutian shouted excitedly.
At their level, being struck in the abdomen wouldn’t kill them, unless the soul itself was destroyed.
That was the power of the Primordial Strike, it could shred the soul, wielding the force of eternity.
But as the gray power lingered inside Xu Zimo, it all surged toward his true fate.
He did not resist, letting it rush through him.
Within his true fate, a great world, like a planet, rotated slowly.
When the gray mist touched it, it was like moths plunging into flame.
The instant they made contact, they vanished without a trace.
Everything returned to calm, as though nothing had happened.
…
Outside, everyone’s eyes locked on Xu Zimo.
“Why hasn’t he fallen yet?” someone whispered.
“His true fate must be strong. Give it time.”
“But speaking of which, after all this fighting, do any of you even know what his true fate is?”
The words struck them silent.
They realized, they had never seen Xu Zimo’s true fate.
And yet, without even revealing it, he was already so invincible.
Xu Zimo drew his gaze back and looked at the crowd with calm indifference.
“It’s time to end this,” he said softly.
“You… you’re unharmed?” Changsun Wutian asked, disbelief in his voice.
Xu Zimo gave no reply. He simply raised Shadow Tyrant, the great curved blade, and brought it down.
Dozens were slain in an instant.
Step by step he advanced, like a reaper wielding his scythe.
“Is this truly the end?” someone muttered.
“Even if it is, so what? I, Chu Feng, have faced countless obstacles to reach this point. Even if I die, I will not die cowering. I refuse to be butchered like livestock!”
The young man named Chu Fengchen stood, sword in hand, pointing it at Xu Zimo.
“Remember my name, Celestial Gate Sacred Ground, Chu Feng!”
Though after the Primordial Strike he had almost no strength left, still he dragged himself forward, sword raised, charging toward Xu Zimo.